Wick on a Candle

The end of the working week is coming. The days are getting monotonous - class, then work, class, then work. It is a vicious cycle, a slow death of time. I am just waiting for the day my hair grays and my mind falters. Like a wick on a candle, my life will eventually melt down to just a mass of waste. The passion and energy will be burnt and lost forever with the light going out. And I play the role of a lame duck to the nicety. Just waiting and waiting. It is hard, knowing that your end is near and that you aren't doing anything to make your time here worth it. Everything you do is unimportant because nothing seems important.